


Luck of the Draw

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 02:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which Napoleon tries to give Illya (and their cat) a lesson in poker.





	Luck of the Draw

Illya had been somewhat skeptical when he and Napoleon had been assigned to a case in a casino; the memory of a previous failed assignment in a Monte Carlo casino during the first year of their partnership was still in the back of Illya’s mind. Napoleon, on the other hand, was feeling confident. They were eventually back home, having a late supper alongside their black Egyptian Mau, Baba Yaga.

“I don’t think it’s going to be that bad,” Napoleon said. “We’re both more experienced now, and I’m sure we won’t have any crazy, unexpected wild cards showing up like last time, either.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Illya said, feeling slightly better about it. “Now my only concern is being able to fit in while we search this establishment.”

“…Have you ever played any casino games before?” Napoleon asked.

Illya blushed slightly, and shook his head.

“ _Nyet_ ; I have always considered gambling to be a waste of money. However, to fit in, I suppose I must learn to play.”

“I can teach you!” Napoleon said, with a grin. “I come from a long line of lucky gamblers; poker is my game, though I’ve dabbled in all of them…”

“Ah, yes, the ‘Solo Luck’ I have heard so much about,” Illya mused. “Very well, I am ready to learn; I know there are different hands, I just need pointers on strategy…” He trailed off as Napoleon pulled a deck of cards from his pocket. “…Do you always carry those with you…?”

“Uh-huh,” Napoleon smiled.

“…Why?”

“You never know when they’ll come in handy,” Napoleon said.

As Napoleon shuffled the deck, Illya silently repeated those words, trying to make sense of them. In the end, he shrugged, and proceeded to gently pet the cat on the table, who looked up from her dinner and was staring with interest as Napoleon now dealt the cards.

Baba Yaga, after accepting the pets from Illya, now chose this moment to walk along the table to where Napoleon was sitting and rubbed up against his arm, meowing. Napoleon good-naturedly pet her a few times and resumed dealing the cards—and had to pause as Baba Yaga put her paw down on one of the cards.

“Oh, you want me to deal you in?” he teased.

Illya rolled his eyes in amusement as Napoleon did just that, allowing Baba Yaga to play with a hand of cards that were face-down in front of her on the table.

“Poker is about 40 percent luck and 30 percent strategy,” Napoleon explained to Illya. “You discard and draw cards until you get a good hand. The highest possible hand is a royal flush—and a straight flush before that. You have to be incredibly lucky to get those, so most people go for four-of-a-kind or a full house.”

“…That’s only 70 percent,” Illya observed. “What’s the other 30 percent?”

“Mind games,” Napoleon grinned. “If you’ve got a bad hand, you want to trick your opponents into thinking you’ve got a good one—you bluff by raising the stakes. They can either fold or try to call your bluff, but depending on how convincing you can be, you can get them to fold. I once got someone with a full house to fold to my two pair. This might be the easy part; as agents, we bluff for a living.”

“That’s true,” Illya mused.

“It’s second nature,” Napoleon said. “Alright, let’s play out this hand…” He trailed off as Baba Yaga now swatted two of her cards back at him. “…Are you discarding these?”

Humoring her, he dealt her two new cards as Illya chuckled. He and Illya continued to discard and draw—and Baba Yaga swatted a couple more cards away, prompting Napoleon to deal her new ones.

“Ordinarily, this is where we’d be adding to the pot, if we had one,” Napoleon said. “But we’re just going through the motions now, so…” He placed a fish stick on a small plate. “I bet a fish stick. You can either fold or match my stake—or, if you’re confident, raise the bet further.”

“I will see your fish stick and raise you half a fish stick,” Illya said, adding his half a fish stick to the pot.

“I call,” Napoleon said, adding another fish stick to the pot. He glanced at Baba Yaga. “What about you?”

“Mrrrah,” she replied, staring at the fish sticks.

“…I’m going to take that as ‘I’d call if I had any,’” Napoleon translated. “Of course, in an actual game, if she had nothing to start with, she couldn’t be dealt in. But this is informal, so I’ll let it slide. You going to raise the pot or fold, Illya?”

“ _Nyet_.”

“Neither am I. How about you, my dear?”

“Mrreh,” she meowed.

Alright, then; time to put the cards on the table…”

Illya had a straight, which Napoleon had topped with a full house.

“Not bad for your first try, but it looks as though I win,” he said. “Don’t let it bother you; I’m just experienced and, of course, naturally gifted in the luck department…”

He reached for the fish as Illya gave a good-natured shake of his head, and Baba Yaga let out a loud meow of protest.

“But I won, my dear,” Napoleon explained.

“Did you, though?” Illya asked, indicating the cat’s five face-down cards.

“Well, it’s not as though she was actually playing strategically…” Napoleon began, but he stopped in midsentence as he flipped over Baba Yaga’s five cards—and revealed all four kings, plus an ace. “…Four of a kind!?”

Illya was struggling to hide his amusement as Napoleon stared, gobsmacked, at the cat’s winning hand.

“She has won the pot, Napoleon. …And I think she is the only one other than myself who would appreciate winning fish sticks, anyway.”

Napoleon shrugged and place the plate of fish sticks in front of her, prompting her to go at them, purring loudly.

“Well,” Napoleon sighed. “Looks like we learned something today. Black cats aren’t unlucky—they just draw all the luck to them, making it seem like _you’re_ unlucky…”

“We are both lucky to have her,” Illya said. “And each other.”

Napoleon smiled, gently petting the cat again.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “We are.”

And the cat looked up with a knowing glance, as if to say, _Yes, you are very lucky_.

That was certainly no secret.


End file.
